Out of Balance
by DeniseV
Summary: One of their own disappears, putting The Magnificent Seven and the town of Four Corners out of balance.


"Feels good, don't it, hoss?"

"It does indeed."

"Funny how just a degree or two and a nice breeze can make all the difference."

"Truer words, Buck."

Buck Wilmington looked closely at his unusually quiet friend. It was ten minutes before eleven at night and the saloon was dead quiet. The few people spending time inside were more interested in drinking than gambling, so that placed Ezra Standish, resident professional poker player, out on the boardwalk of the drinking establishment, standing alongside the ladies' man as Buck Wilmington neared the end of his shift.

"You're kind o' quiet there, Ez," the handsome gunman said. "Somethin' wrong?"

Ezra removed his hat as he leaned against the post, letting the cool breeze cool his short auburn locks. This evening's weather was a welcome change from the heat of the last week. The wind and the cooler nighttime temperatures likely heralded a coming storm. In spite of the drenching rain from earlier in the spring, the heat of the last week as the season crossed over to summer had left the ground dry … parched and cracked and desperate for relief.

"When are Chris and Vin due back?"

"Reckon they'll be here by noon tomorrow. The telegraph said they were leavin' on time." The card sharp didn't respond as he looked down the avenue in the direction of Santa Fe. Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner had taken the stage to Santa Fe, acquired rental horses and then took the prisoner Judge Orin Travis remanded for trial to the town where the robbery and murder took place. The two lawmen transported the suspect to Willow Springs and returned to Santa Fe before making their way home. They had all been surprised Vin suggested the stage, though Chris knew the man's back had been bothering him more than normal of late. The healer and their fellow lawman Nathan Jackson was glad for the turn of events.

"Ez?"

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?"

Ezra shook his head and said, "Ah wish Ah knew. Ah have had the most disconcertin' feelin' all evenin'."

"That's just 'cause your vest pocket ain't bulgin' full o' cash. You're just feelin' out o' balance."

Ezra stepped down from the boardwalk to the dusty avenue. "Perhaps you are correct," he replied, no hint of humor in the response.

Buck didn't much care for Ezra agreeing with him, not in that way. "Where ya headin'?"

Ezra stopped and turned to his friend. "Ah … Ah don't know. For a walk."

"Let me come with ya," Buck offered as he started down the steps.

"No, you have had a long shift, and no doubt a prearranged rendezvous?" the gambler added with a forced smile.

"Sure, but … "

"No. Just please let Josiah know that Ah will take a walk around town and meet up with him at the jail in an hour, whether or not Ah have anything to report."

"I can do that, but I'm happy to keep ya company, Ez."

"Ah appreciate that, Buck, but Ah could use the time alone."

"All right. You'll feel better after a good night's sleep," Buck said as he went into the saloon for a drink before _rendezvousing_ with Laurie Ann in his room at Virginia's.

* * *

"Ain't no wonder Chris complains," Josiah Sanchez grumbled as he made his way up the stairs of the saloon to the second floor … and Ezra's room. The former preacher had been on duty for well over an hour, walking the avenue in the main part of town. He'd settled in at the jailhouse, waiting for Ezra to report back before saddling his horse and doing a quick ride to the edges of town. He'd waited inside for fifteen minutes, then out on the boardwalk for another five, and then stormed across the street to the saloon. He'd asked Inez if the frustrating gamester was up in his room; she said that she had not seen him for a while and that if he was up there, he must have used the back staircase.

He knocked on the door. "Ezra!" No answer, no sound from the other side of the door, no light shining from under it. The big man knocked again. "Ezra?" Once more, no response. He took the spare key that Inez reluctantly gave him and unlocked the door.

"Don't shoot me, Ezra," Josiah called. He opened the door. The room was pitch black, the curtains closed completely, a sign that Ezra had been in the room earlier in the evening and closed them to keep the heat from the setting sun from turning his room to an uncomfortable cauldron. Josiah lit a match, found the oil lamp where it was always kept, and quickly lit it.

"Where are you, son?" he asked as he looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place. The bed was made. He walked over to find the pitcher full of water, which indicated that Ezra had not been to his room to settle in for the night. He opened the closet door to find the fancily-dressed man's clothes all hung tidily.

"Somethin' ain't right," the older man said. He checked under the bed and then gave the room another once-over. He extinguished the light from the lamp and headed downstairs. Inez saw him moving swiftly to the main door of the drinking establishment. She ran to catch up to him.

"Was he there?" she called.

"No," Josiah said as he headed out to start his second round of patrol, keen on finding Ezra, hopefully to give him a piece of his mind, leaving a worried and frightened Inez Rocios in his wake.

* * *

"In case you're wonderin', you _are_ interrupting, Josiah."

"He never showed up."

Buck's face immediately revealed his concern. "Give me a minute." Josiah waited outside the ladies' man's room at Virginia's Hotel, but not for long. Buck reappeared in just moments.

"You check his room?" The steely-blue glare from the big man told Buck just how stupid the question was. The fact that Josiah looked intent on pummeling the town Lothario into the ground was his second hint that the preacher had done some searching around. That he showed up at his door after midnight was all that Buck needed to have happen to know that something wasn't right. But in reality, these two hints were the second and third hints for the gunman. He knew something wasn't right after his conversation with Ezra earlier.

"Chaucer's still in his stall," Josiah said as the two headed downstairs.

"Where haven't ya looked?" Buck asked.

"Haven't been down every alley, didn't check many places in detail. Didn't check behind the livery when I saw his horse was still there, not been back to the church. Ain't gone outside of town."

"All right. Let me go wake the kid. Three pairs of eyes'll be better 'n two." The worried man would have suggested waking Nathan Jackson in addition to J.D. Dunne, but Buck knew that the healer was staying overnight at Ethan and Jane Prescott's. The couple just had their third child that day, but the baby arrived two weeks early. J.D. and Casey Wells were there for the birth, the Wells ranch being home to the Prescotts' closest neighbor. Casey stayed to help, and Nathan sent J.D. back to town to let everyone know that he would return in the morning if all went as planned overnight with the newborn.

"I'll start at the church. You two start at the other end of town. I'll do the alleys around the church and the livery. We'll meet at the jail."

"All right." Buck didn't bother offering platitudes; it was clear something had happened to their friend. Their job now was to find him, hopefully alive even if not well.

* * *

"Didn't hear or see nothin' that appeared wrong," J.D. said as he and Buck met up with Josiah about an hour later.

"Damn," Josiah whispered.

"If he's hurt and unconscious, it'll be hard to find him in the dark," Buck noted. They were all three thinking the same thing. "Might need to wait 'til morning, get a few more of the fellas to help."

"I guess," uttered the big man who was slowly but surely bringing the church back to life, and mending his faith one nail at a time. He pounded his hand up against the post in front of the jail. The noise was enough to wake a light sleeper. It seemed violent enough to bring down the roof, but they knew that it wouldn't; the Seven had reinforced it well the last time Josiah's anger damaged it enough to bring the metal-covered structure tumbling down. The loud echo of the hand on the wood did cause Fred the hound dog to howl down the street, a mournful high-pitched sound coming from the Merton's home.

"What was he doing out by himself?" J.D. asked.

"Now, don't go blamin' Ezra. We all have done our fair share of takin' a walk to think things through. This town's pretty safe these days, and we all patrol alone. It's just … "

Josiah looked to Buck worriedly. "It's just what?"

"Well," Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, "he said somethin' funny, was actin' a little strange."

"What'd he say?" J.D. asked, nearly bouncing in his frustration at not finding his friend and being hampered at looking further due to the darkness. The wind assured that a storm was brewing, the cloud cover hiding moon and stars and making for a particularly dark atmosphere for two in the morning in the high desert.

"First, he asked when Chris and Vin were due back, which is peculiar because I know he knew the answer. He'd been real quiet so I asked him what was wrong." Buck spoke softly, carefully, knowing that this information would be upsetting to both of his friends. "He said he didn't know, but that he'd had a bad feelin' all night."

Josiah looked up and down the street and then over to Buck. "Shouldn't've let him go." The comment raised the tall, handsome gunman's hackles.

"What, did you want me to put him in one o' these cells, Josiah, to keep him from walkin' around in his own town?"

"Buck, he didn't … " J.D. started, but he could see that his emotional friend wasn't paying any attention to him while he waited for Josiah's answer. Josiah immediately realized his mistake.

"No. No, Buck. I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

"We all are," Buck replied, knowing that Josiah was simply expressing the same frustrations that they all currently felt. "It'll be daylight before you know it." They were in agreement with that, but that didn't stop all three men from taking one more walk around town before, after the same results as their earlier searches, Buck and J.D. headed to bed.

* * *

"Robert, you and me, we'll check outside the town on the south side. Buck and J.D.," Josiah said tiredly, "you take the north. Marty and Dave, I need you to check every nook and cranny in town."

It was six in the morning, a time which presented plenty of daylight for the men to get started on their search for the missing lawman. Josiah had been back to the saloon, where he and Inez checked Ezra's room once more. The pretty Mexican knew he wasn't there. She would have known.

"What … " Inez started, then said, "Where could he be?"

"I don't know. We'll find him." The preacher left the saloon.

Josiah and Robert Merton took their horses at a careful trot out of town. There was limited activity in the town this early in the morning. They waved to Dave Landon and Marty Ellison, who chose to start at the south side of town, looking down alleys, investigating empty buildings, and checking in with other townsfolk. The people of the town might not like being awakened so early in the morning, but the two men knew that once each person heard why, they would be worried for the card sharp and would be able to count several more volunteers to help find the missing Ezra Standish.

Buck and J.D. were on their horses and headed in the other direction.

"What did Mrs. Travis say?"

"Just what you'd expect, kid. Told us to be careful, hope we found him quick. She's gonna send a telegraph to Eagle Bend and Red Rock, ask the sheriffs there to be on the lookout for him." The two towns were the nearest ones to Four Corners with telegraph offices. She told Buck that she didn't think he would be in either town, unless he was being taken there against his will.

"It ain't like Ez to get caught unaware," J.D. said.

"No, it isn't."

"Maybe he found … " J.D. paused, shook his head, then said, "No, that don't make no sense."

"What're ya thinkin'?"

"No, I was just talkin' before thinkin'. Glad Chris and Ez weren't here to hear it."

"Well, I'm here, so tell me what yer thinkin'!" Buck was annoyed. The fact was that any lead was worth following, any idea worth listening to.

"All right! What's got up your craw?"

"A good friend seems to have vanished, J.D. Could be out there hurt, or worse. That a good enough reason to have somethin' stuck up my craw?" J.D. lowered his head, and Buck immediately felt guilty for taking out his anxiety on his friend, a man who was as close to him as a brother. "Kid, I'm sorry … "

"No, you're right. Of course it is." The young man looked out toward the northern reaches, beyond the town. "You know Robert's had some of his cattle stolen."

"Yeah. Think he's up to four head now."

"Five. You think Ezra might've heard something about that?" J.D. asked.

"What, and got too close?"

"Or decided to follow 'em. Robert ain't keeping 'em too far outside of town right now. I know he's gettin' ready to move 'em, though."

"Chaucer's still at the livery," Buck reminded his partner.

"I know. But maybe he stole … borrowed a horse. Could be someone's sleepin' off a drunk and don't know his horse is missin'."

"Or he took one from the corral behind the livery," Buck surmised.

"Without a rig?"

"Ezra's done dumber things than that." Buck smiled suddenly. "Actually, he's done _exactly_ that before."

"Ezra only does dumb stuff when he has to. Ezra ain't dumb," J.D. said, defending his missing friend.

Buck smiled as he listened to his friend agree with both sides of the argument. "Hell, I know that. Ezra, well, he's one of the smartest people I've ever met. But if you're right and he headed after someone without back-up, then that counts as dumb."

"Maybe, but if that's what he did, he was just tryin' to help out Robert." J.D. huffed in frustration and said, "Wish Vin was here."

"I know. But we'll follow the signs as best we can."

"If there's any to see."

* * *

Nearly four hours later, all six men were gathered at the jail.

"No sign at all in town?" Buck asked Dave and Marty.

"No. And we did check every building and shed, cellar and dugout. No sign of him, at all," Dave replied.

"Nothin' outside of town?" Marty asked.

"Nothing that we could tell," Josiah said. "But we had that Army transport that came through town the day before yesterday."

"Aw, hell," J.D. cried. "The last o' those soldiers left after supper last night."

"Damned hard to track anything with all that activity. I'm sure Vin would be able to see something," Robert Merton said. "Unfortunately, he's not here and none of us tracks like Vin. I'm not sure even Vin could fight all those horse tracks on this hard ground."

"Mary said that nobody's noticed anything strange the last day or so," Buck said.

"'cept Ezra not playin' poker last night," J.D. added.

"Can't play by himself, J.D.," Josiah noted. "It was a quiet night. It happens."

"Damn," Buck said suddenly, angrily. "I should o' gone with him."

"And I should've come lookin' for you the minute he didn't show up on time," Josiah countered.

"All right. None of this guilt is helping us find Ezra. I don't see the point in placing blame," Robert said, trying to calm the friends' worry. "Neither one of you is keeping Ezra from being here. It's something else altogether."

"So what do we do?" Dave asked.

The six men contemplated the question. Robert started to speak. "Reckon we can …. " He was interrupted as the Clarion newspaper's publisher walked into the jailhouse.

"Mary?" Buck asked anxiously.

"No. Neither town has seen him. Eagle Bend's new sheriff said he hadn't seen him since the poker tournament in March. Red Rock's sheriff said he last saw him when Vin and Ezra brought that prisoner through last month."

"That was when they road alongside the judge's stagecoach," J.D. said. "They were worried that Judge Travis might get attacked to keep him from the trial."

"I wondered if something similar might have kept Chris and Vin in Santa Fe longer," Mary continued, "so I telegraphed Orin, too. He said no, that they both got on the stage, he watched them leave, and he had no reason to believe that they wouldn't get here on today's stage."

"I don't like waitin' for them to get back," Josiah said, his tone full of worry, "but we come up empty lookin' ourselves. Might be best to wait for Vin to get back."

"No, I think with so many in town joining in this morning that we could have found him if he was here," the newspaper owner and Chris Larabee's love interest assured everyone.

Robert Merton added, "How about we do this: teams of two, we head out a full hour in the direction of the three nearest towns. Look in spots ya didn't check earlier. We'll meet back at the stagecoach office at noon, which is when today's Santa Fe stage is scheduled to arrive."

"That's a good idea. It beats sittin' around doin' nothin'," J.D. said, anxious to keep looking for his friend.

"It sure does, kid," Buck agreed. The kind ladies' man had made good progress with the former con man. Ezra only ever called him _Mistah Wilmington_ now when he was being castigated in some way by the southerner. The former Texas Ranger was not even close to being ready, willing or able to give up that friendship.

"Noon? At the stagecoach office?" Dave confirmed. Everyone agreed and then dispersed.

* * *

"They were definitely boot prints and I'm pretty sure they were Ezra's."

"I think they were, too, Buck. But why would he be walkin' way out there?"

"J.D., I wish I knew."

"Well, I think we should head back out, keep goin' in that direction," the youngest member of the town's law enforcers said.

"No."

"Why not, Josiah?"

"Because, J.D., the stage is due in any time now, and it makes sense to have Vin with us."

"I hate waitin'. It feels like we're just leavin' him out there." Robert Merton stepped up to the easterner and patted him on his back.

"We're doin' what we can. And Josiah's right, there's no sense headin' back out without our expert tracker." The town of Four Corners had gotten lucky when the rancher decided to make the frontier town his home. He turned to the others standing outside of the coach office. "I'm gonna go meet with my men. We're driving cattle up north to higher elevation, leaving the day after tomorrow. I'll be back later this afternoon. Come to the house if you need me."

"Thanks, Robert," Buck said as he slapped the sometime lawman affectionately on his back.

"Dave, Marty. Thanks for your help," Josiah said, shaking each man's hand. "We'll come get ya if we need more help."

"I can stay, keep looking," Marty Ellison said. "My family's with my in-laws in Denver."

"No, go ahead. But we appreciate your help, as always," Josiah replied. "If we need more help, we'll come callin'."

"All right. Good luck," Marty said.

"I'm hopin' he's all right," Dave said. "Keepin' my fingers crossed."

"Thanks, fellas," Buck said.

The threatening skies of the previous night, with the accompanying stormy winds, resulted in no rain. The skies were cloudy once more, with the sun forcing its way through just enough so that the heat added to the rare higher amount of moisture in the air, making it hard to stay dry, even without the rain, ironic considering the crusty dryness of the ground.

"Damn if I don't hate this weather," Buck said as he swiped the sweat from the back of his neck, looked at his hand in disgust, and wiped it on his pants.

"I still can't figure why … " J.D. began but stopped as first they heard, and soon saw the stagecoach barreling around the corner from the south and stopping abruptly in front of the livery, sooner than where it would normally park and passengers would disembark. Josiah headed down the steps from the stagecoach office to follow Buck and J.D., who had already started jogging that way.

"Nathan!" they heard Chris yell as he jumped from the coach, the door opened well before the driver had the horses stopped. Witnessing that had the three lawmen who had searched for one of their own all morning running to see what was the matter.

"What is it?" Buck asked. "The stage get attacked?"

"No. Get Nathan," Chris demanded.

"He ain't here. The Prescott baby came early. Is Vin hurt?" J.D. questioned.

"Unhand me," a familiar southern-accented voice groused from inside the stage.

"Just tryin' ta keep ya from fallin," Vin could be heard arguing with the no longer missing gambler.

"Ez!" Buck called happily, followed immediately by J.D.'s "Ezra!" and the preacher's quiet, "Thank you, lord."

"Ah have been walkin' on mah own – unattended – since Ah was, as mah mothah would say, an itty, bitty boy." Buck laughed but stopped quickly when he saw the look he received from Chris Larabee.

"Ya passed out twice since we found ya, Ezra. Let Vin help," Chris ordered.

The clearly befuddled man didn't know what he was doing when he challenged a man such as Chris Larabee, but then again, Chris and Vin weren't altogether sure Ezra knew, from one moment to the next, that he was in their company. "Ah do not need Mistah Jackson's ministrations, Ah do not need Mistah Tanner's assistance," Ezra said as his head reached out through the stagecoach door. Buck and J.D. had smiles plastered on their faces once more. Josiah's face contained concern and joy all at once. And despite Chris and Vin's warning tones, all three men who had been looking frantically for their friend felt intense relief at hearing the southerner complain. Ezra went on, "Ah … Ah would suggest tha …." The former con man was unable to complete this inadvertent con as he fell forward, captured before crashing to the ground by the former gunslinger.

"Josiah!" Chris called.

"Let's take him up to the clinic," Josiah said as he grasped the gambler under his arms, Ezra's head and neck cushioned against the preacher's broad chest, Chris handling the unconscious man's legs.

"Careful," Vin said. "He's complained o' pain. Found two knots on his head, but no blood. Didn't find nothin' else where he seems hurt, but he ain't let us get close to him, and it was pretty tight gettin' anything done in the stage." The stagecoach driver was disinclined, to say the least, about sitting out in the open as the found gambler was tended to. The injured man's two friends were equally keen to get to town and have Nathan look the man over.

"All right." Josiah looked in the direction of the Prescott homestead. "Nathan should o' been back by now."

"I hope there wasn't no trouble with the baby," J.D. said. "Should I go ride out?"

"Let's get Ezra settled," Josiah suggested. "We'll check his head, see how he is when he comes to."

"All right. I'll get some hot water goin' and some bandages ready," Buck said as he took the steps two at a time ahead of Chris and Josiah and the man who was out cold who they carried between them.

"Did he say what happened?" J.D. asked. "He disappeared last night, sometime between eleven and midnight."

Vin answered as he followed in step with the young man up the stairs to Nathan's clinic.

"No. We found 'im 'bout three miles out o' town. Lucky he didn't have his coat on. We saw his white shirt or else we would have passed him. That green jacket would've blended into all that green at the swimmin' hole."

"Can't believe he made it that far. You think he walked all that way?"

"Don't know. Once Josiah starts lookin' 'im over, how 'bout you and me go take a look?"

J.D. smiled and answered eagerly, "Sure, Vin." They all continued to learn so much from the tracker, more than three years now after having made his acquaintance. Between all of the knowledge he gained from living with the different tribes, and everything he learned as a bounty hunter, buffalo hunter, and tracker, they probably all still had a lot to learn from Vin Tanner.

As Josiah and Chris got Ezra onto the bed, the poker player murmured, "Pain," as he tried to turn onto his side. Josiah put his hand on the injured man's forehead.

"It's all right, Ezra. We've got ya." The big man pushed the injured lawman's sweaty, dirty hair away from his face. Ezra didn't truly come awake.

"Looks like he might o' been in a fight. His clothes are dirty. He didn't leave last night lookin' like this," Buck observed. He helped Josiah remove the card sharp's green jacket.

"Thought you said he wasn't wearing his coat?" J.D. questioned.

"He wasn't. He was carryin' it. When we finally got him to stop walkin' and get in the stage," Chris said, "he insisted on puttin' it back on before getting in."

"He's got blood on the sleeve of his right arm," Josiah said, examining the shirt more closely. It was brown now, the blood having mixed with dirt. From the appearance of the usually fastidious gambler, it would have been easy for Vin and Chris to mistake it for more grime from whatever he had been through that made him and his fancy clothes so filthy. "Sorry, Ezra," Josiah said as he ripped the sleeve away. "That's what I thought," the preacher and Nathan's most regular assistant said.

"Someone fought him for his sleeve rig," J.D. stated the now-obvious.

"We didn't find any of his other weapons, either," Vin said.

"He had 'em all when I saw him last," Buck said softly. Though the card sharp hadn't played any poker of significance the previous night, he would still have on him his regular arsenal, just in case he needed to protect himself from the fools who would suggest that he cheated when the facts were more than clear that they were pitifully poor card players.

"No!" Ezra called from the bed, followed by, "don't," then, "stop," and finally a frustrated, "pain," before settling down to silence once more.

"Sounds like a fight," Chris said. To Vin and J.D. he added, "Head on out and see what you can see."

"All right." The two lawmen reached the door just as it opened, bringing Nathan Jackson into the room.

"Aw, hell," the healer said with a hint of guilt as he made his way to the bedside of his unconscious friend. "What happened?"

"Not exactly sure yet, Nate," Josiah said as he stepped away to give the former stretcher bearer during the war, eventual medic's aid and now healer some room. "Everything all right with the Prescotts?"

"Yeah, momma and baby are good. Think we all might o' been off a little on how far along she was." He shook his head and added, "I'm late because Miss Nettie brought over a big breakfast and we just got to talkin' 'bout how quiet and safe and nice it's been lately." Nathan checked Ezra's eyes and said, "Damn. Should've been back sooner." He added, "His pupils are a little uneven."

"Don't feel bad, Nate. You didn't know. And his eyes bein' off is kind of expected if he got hit twice on the head, right?" Chris asked.

"He got his twice on the head?" Nathan immediately felt around, starting with Ezra's temples and then moving slowly around to the back of his head and found the two large lumps. They heard the door shut as Vin and J.D. left.

"Looks like whoever he tangled with tried to pull off that thing he holds his pea shooter in without undoin' it," Buck angrily added.

"I'll check that next," Nathan said. "No blood from those two hits, but that doesn't mean that he's not hurt bad."

"He's passed out three times," Chris told the healer.

Nathan leaned away from his patient and shook his head. "That don't mean nothin'. He's ornery. Normal folk would've been out the whole time." Nathan stretched his back and neck; both Chris and Buck noted the action.

"Mrs. Prescott have a long labor?" Josiah asked.

"Yeah. Sleepin' on a bedroll on a hard floor don't do a body any good, either," Nathan explained. The former slave checked the southerner's arm. "Looks like mostly a couple of bad scratches, one deep groove, took a chunk of his arm." Nathan felt the arm all the way up for breaks, then maneuvered the hand and arm into different positions. One of the movements drew Ezra to wakefulness.

"No," he said as he tried to pull his arm back to the protection of his body. "Mmnn," he moaned, followed by, "pain."

"Ezra, can you wake up?" Nathan asked. The card sharp's breathing started to quicken.

"Don't," he pleaded, his breaths now more erratic.

"Ezra! Wake up!" Chris demanded. The gambler turned his head to the voice.

"Ch …Chris?"

"Ezra," the leader of the Seven said as he stepped closer to the bed.

The injured man blinked slowly, unable to keep his eyes open, at first. Another word of encouragement from the former gunslinger but, more importantly, the man whose friendship had been hard fought between both men, had Ezra looking at his partner in protecting his adopted town of Four Corners.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, it's me. Buck and Josiah, too. And Nate needs you to stay awake for a bit."

"Have Ah been sl … sleepin'?" he asked as his eyes started to close.

"No! Ezra!" both Nathan and Chris appealed to the groggy man.

"Mm-hmm."

"Open your eyes," the healer ordered.

"Yes suh."

"How many fingers?"

"Two?" the professional poker player asked.

"You asking me or telling me?" Nathan queried.

"What?"

"Never mind," the black man snorted.

"Ah was correct?"

"Yeah. You know what day it is?" the would-be, indeed _should_ be doctor asked.

"'s not Friday or Saturday." Chris and Buck laughed as Josiah shook his head with a grin. "'s not funny. If Ah had been busy winnin' at poker, Ah would not be in this sorry state."

"How's your arm feel?"

"Mah arm? It is all right, Nathan. Mah head is a much more dire concern."

"You said your arm was painin' you a minute ago."

Ezra looked at the caring man with a frown. "Ah did?" He moved first his wrist, and then his arm up and down. "The sting of these scratches, a bit of an ache at that missin' bit. But … pain … "

The other lawmen waited for whatever Ezra was planning to say next, but nothing followed.

"Ezra?" Chris urged as he watched his hurt friend's forehead furrow with … confusion?

"Ezra?" Nathan asked worriedly.

"Pain."

Now Nathan frowned, and Ezra's friends all looked at each other, deeply concerned at the conflicting snippets coming from the gambler. "All right. Where?" he asked as he went to take the marked up arm in his hand for closer inspection.

"No. Not me." Ezra looked from one man to the next before asking, "Where's Vin?"

Chris answered. "They went lookin' to see if there was any sign of who did this to you."

Ezra shook his head. "No. Pain."

"Look, are you in pain or aren't you?" Chris asked, both concerned and not a little annoyed.

Ezra put his hand to his forehead. "No," he said weakly, the questioning clearly aggravating his already aching head. "Arliss Payne," he said, frustrated that it had taken so long to make his point.

"Hell," Buck said as he and Chris realized at the same time what the name meant.

"Where's Robert?" Chris asked as he and Buck rushed to the clinic exit. "Josiah, we might need you. Nate, don't leave him alone," Chris ordered as he looked toward Ezra.

"He has mah guns," Ezra warned tiredly.

"Robert was on his way to meet with his men, but he's probably checkin' in with his foreman first," Buck said.

"Nathan," Ezra said as he tried to rise from his prone position.

"Don't. They'll get Dave and Marty to help." The healer called to Chris, who had crossed the threshold to the balcony. "If you hurry you can probably catch Vin and J.D." At that last suggestion, Chris and Buck headed down to the street.

"Nathan?" The gambler, only a whisper.

"Yeah, Ezra."

"Could Ah … " he began, but the next words he spoke were a brief wisp of air as the last of Ezra's energy was used up.

"Let me get you something for that headache."

"Thank you."

"I'll clean ya up best I can and treat that arm while you sleep."

"Much oblig …." Ezra fell asleep. Nathan put his hand on his friend's chest, patted it gently, then stood up and got to work.

* * *

"Clyde's right downstairs. I'll ride out and catch Vin and J.D."

"I'll get Dave and Marty," Josiah said as Buck mounted his horse.

"I'll stop to make sure Robert isn't still in town," Chris added as Josiah headed across the street and the former gunslinger strode quickly to Robert Merton's home.

Ten minutes later, after a quick conversation with Abigail Merton confirmed that Robert was on the road to the herd north of town, riding out with Arliss Payne, Chris Larabee was riding Pony fast out of town, followed by Josiah Sanchez and Dave Landon. Marty Ellison remained at the jail to watch over the town. In another five minutes they met up with Buck, Vin and J.D.

"Robert's riding out to the herd with Payne," Chris informed his men.

"He always rubbed me the wrong way," Buck admitted. His friends all looked at him with concerted accusatory glares. "I know he had to make a decision quick, but it's a shame Robert couldn't have found a better foreman."

"He came with good references, Buck. Remember?" J.D. reminded his friend.

"Yeah, well, that don't mean squat now," Bucked replied.

"Let's get goin'," Vin said, cutting off the conversation that was getting them nowhere. "We need to keep our eyes open fer dust trails. Could be Payne's gonna do whatever he has planned out o' sight."

"Let's ride," Chris said.

Another fifteen minutes down the trail they found Robert Merton, bloody but alive.

"Fellas," he said as he held a kerchief to his head. "Son-of-a-bitch. Got shanghaied by Payne."

"We know, though I should tell ya Ezra will let you know that you can't use that word the way you think you can," Vin said with a grin. He knew it likely wasn't anything Robert Merton cared about, but the tracker was so damned happy to see the rancher alive, he just wanted to try to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, well, Ezra can kiss my ass," also said lacking any seriousness from the rancher.

"What happened?" Chris asked.

"It's pretty simple. He pulled a gun on me, wanted me to head over beyond that outcropping. Figured he was planning to shoot me."

"Did he admit to taking your beef?" Josiah asked.

"No, but he did, that's obvious. Can't trust too much out here, so I never told Payne that I kept a second gun on me. He was too intent on not having to drag my dead body out of sight, and I got a shot off. He tried to fire on me, but I flew off my horse. That's where I got this," Robert said, indicating his bloody forehead."

"Here's Honor," J.D. said, indicating Robert Merton's horse. "She seems fine."

"Thanks, J.D."

"You okay to get back on your horse and go after Payne?" Chris asked.

"Damned straight I am," the rancher said as he shoved the bloody bandanna into his pocket and got on his horse. He turned her toward Four Corners, not heading north of town where his cattle were.

"Where ya goin'?" Dave asked.

"He headed back toward town."

"Shit," Vin said as he took the lead in their race back to town.

"Did you hit him when you fired on him?" Chris asked as they road back to town.

"I think so. You figure he's going after Ezra?" Robert asked.

"I'm thinkin' he's gone off the deep end and needs to blame someone for messin' up his plans. Ezra's an easy target."

The faster they rode the harder talking and hearing became. They stopped and concentrated on getting back to town as fast as possible.

* * *

"You fell asleep before I got any tea ready for you."

"Ah know. Ah am sorry."

"Don't be, Ez. You were exhausted. You didn't wake for your bath and you didn't wake when I took care of your arm."

"Ah experienced some busy overnight hours," the gambler said with a yawn.

"Well, sit up. Inez brought you over something to eat, and you should get some of this tea in you."

Ezra yawned again. "Mah apologies, Nathan. Ah hardly feel able to stay awake for food."

"Well, you should eat something, anyway. Your body is going to demand sleep. You need to have something nourishing while you're out for the rest of the day."

"Ah can tell. Ah ache and Ah could fall asleep with no trouble whatsoevah." The southerner sat up in bed, but only made it part way as his arm caused him pain and the room started to spin. "Uh … "

"Here, let me help." The healer took a pillow and placed it behind his patient's back. "You feelin' dizzy?"

"Some. Just allow me a moment." Ezra breathed deeply in and out. He did it several times and then finally opened his eyes to see the worried face of the former slave. "Ah am fine, Nathan. Thank you."

"You should eat. You'll feel better," Nathan said as he placed the tray of food on Ezra's lap. "Beef stew, bread and butter, coffee, strawberry rhubarb pie from Missus Pike. She said she hopes you're feelin' better soon."

"A lovely lady, as is Inez."

"She didn't make it as spicy, this time."

"It is always delicious, no matter how much heat she adds." He took a good spoonful of the soup, his stomach growling even as he put the spoon in his mouth. "Sorry," he said, only a little embarrassed as he savored the thick stew with bits of beef and lots of vegetables. "Ah believe Inez loves me."

Nathan smiled. He stood up and walked over to the steeping tea. "I think she shows that without making you food." The healer was pleased to see that Ezra's wooziness from earlier, and moments of unconsciousness, did not seem to be lingering. There was no doubt that the banged up man before him would be sleeping the rest of the day away with food in his belly and the tea that included ingredients to relieve pain helping him sleep.

Ezra quietly ate his meal, occasionally letting loose a satisfied 'mmmm' as he finished the stew. As much as Ezra loved the beef stew, there was nothing the gentleman from the south loved more than a fruit pie. To Ezra Standish, pie was a necessary food group. And Dottie Pike knew how to bake. Between Nettie Wells, Gloria Potter and now Dorothy Pike, Ezra sometimes wondered if he hadn't died and gone to heaven. It was a pretty great heaven if he had, where he had sex with a beautifully sexy, fiery woman, had his choice of fruit pies and scones and cakes … and spent time in brotherhood with six fine men.

"Nath'n, this pie … " Ezra said, hardly able to finish chewing his last bite so anxious was he to express his wonder at the taste. He had no time to finish his thought as the door to the clinic was kicked open.

"You stinking Reb!" Arliss Payne said as he aimed his gun at Ezra's head.

"Mistah Payne," Ezra said as he swallowed too fast the pie he'd been up to that point savoring, followed by, "we meet again." Saying the man's name was all the distraction Ezra needed to keep Payne focused on him while Nathan threw one of his knives. His aim was, as Ezra always said about Vin Tanner's timing, impeccable. The knife embedded straight through the man's wrist. Payne pressed the trigger on his gun just as his hand lost its grip on the weapon. The bullet veered to Ezra's right, a little close for comfort. Payne howled in agony and dropped hard on his knees, holding his damaged arm. Nathan rushed over with his gun drawn.

"Get over to the corner," the healer said.

"My hand!"

"I'll look at it soon as someone else gets here to watch you."

"Nathan, you can hand me your gun, Ah can …." Ezra paused and then glared at the foreman. "Mistah Payne, where are mah weapons?" Ezra was single-minded now in his effort to find the location of his guns.

"You best answer the question," Nathan suggested.

"You're a doctor. Don't you have to treat me?"

"I'm not a doctor. I'm a healer. I don't have to treat you at all."

Ezra broke in. "But he will because Mistah Jackson is a decent and honorable man. But Ah can assure you that if Ah ask him not to until you tell me where mah weapons are, he will do as Ah ask."

"He said he wasn't gonna do anything 'til someone else gets here."

"And he will not." The card sharp yawned and then rubbed his head.

"Here, drink this. Someone will be here soon. You might as well get to sleep as soon as you can," Nathan suggested.

Ezra was still rubbing his head when he answered, "No. Ah would feel most uncomfortable fallin' asleep while you watched this miscreant on your own. Ah can wait until our compatriots arrive."

"All right, I guess I can understand that. Lay back and rest. I'll keep an eye on this one."

"That Ah can do."

The three men remained in their current positions for a mere few minutes before they heard a stampede of horses stopping out in front of the clinic. Boot steps charging up the staircase assured the two lawmen inside the clinic that now would be a fine time for Ezra to drink his tea. Nathan handed the cup back to his friend from where it had been keeping warm on the small stove.

Chris and Buck, guns drawn, were the first in the room, followed soon by Vin, Josiah and Robert Merton. J.D. and Dave Landon peeked in through the door.

A most incongruous picture was presented to the men who just rushed in to help their brethren. Ezra Standish was drinking tea. Nathan stood beside him, gun in hand but not pointed at Arliss Payne. Payne was sitting on the floor, his right hand held up near his chest by his other hand, a knife stuck thought his wrist. All three men were calm, as though they were just passing the afternoon discussing the weather.

"Everyone all right?" Chris asked, his face awash in confusion.

"All but him," Nathan said.

Before anyone could stop him, Robert Merton walked up and punched his foreman in the face.

"Feel better?" Buck asked.

"Yep."

"Do not knock him out. He still needs to tell me where mah property is." At that moment, Marty Ellison made his way through the crowd.

"Hey, look who's on the floor," he said. "Hey, Ezra, how're ya feelin'?"

"Mistah Ellison, Ah would feel bettah if someone could get this reprobate to tell me where the guns he stole from me could be found." Amazing self-control kept Ezra from yawning in front of all of these men.

"Then I guess I got here just in time. Some of the kids were playin' between the grain exchange and the livery. They opened one of the cribs and found your stuff. I got 'em locked up at the jail."

Ezra let out a relieved sigh. The man might love his horse better than anything in life, but his weapons ranked a close … third, right behind all of the people who had grown dear to him in his adopted home town. "Much obliged, Mistah Ellison."

"My pleasure. Well, I don't know 'bout the rest of you, but if I'm gonna be around this many people, I'd prefer to do it with a glass of whiskey in my hand." Murmurs of 'I'm with ya' and 'Best idea I heard all day' and 'Last one there … ' were tossed about as Ezra looked from one man to the next, appalled that he was stuck in the bed, and would be for some time now that he'd had Nathan's medicinal tea. If that wasn't bad enough, he'd need to listen to Arliss Payne crying through the pain of getting Nathan's knife out of his wrist.

"Sorry, Ezra," Robert said to him as he took the seat next to the bed. "Sorry you got hurt following this piece of shit."

"Hey!" Payne yelled, offended.

"If the shoe fits, pard," Vin said as he turned to leave. "See you later, Ezra," he added as he tipped his hat to his bedridden friend.

"Mistah Tanner," Ezra said unhappily, knowing where the man was headed.

"Seems he was thinking he might kill me and nobody would notice he was stealing my cattle," Robert added.

"Not only … " Ezra started but was interrupted by a yawn. "Mah apologies, Robert. Not only is Mistah Payne a piece of shit, he is lacking in creativity and, dare Ah say, intelligence."

"Hey!"

"Shut up!" was heard coming from all around the room.

"Anyway, Ezra, you let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I owe you a big one for this. You have me pay it back whenever you need it."

"Could Ah use that I.O.U. right now?"

"He ain't helpin' you back to your room, Ezra," Nathan scolded as he put the things he would need to work on Payne into a satchel. "Buck, can you stay with him while I take care of this wound over at the jail?"

"You're gonna make me walk to the jail with this in my arm?" Payne complained.

"Be grateful," Josiah said. "At least he's bringing something to dull the pain. He's the only one of us who would." The former preacher and Chris took the man between them and walked slowly to the jailhouse. "We'll see all of you over at the saloon."

"Ugh," Ezra said.

The room was soon clear of all but Ezra and Buck.

"So," Buck said as he took the chair vacated by Robert just a while ago. "You wanna tell me what it was that was buggin' you last night?"

"Buck," Ezra started, then yawned widely. "Good lord, Nathan's tea is affectin' me quicker than normal."

"You sleep at all since we talked out in front of the saloon?"

"Well, if you do not include those times when Ah was passed out, then Ah have slept a total of a little over an hour, Ah b'lieve." Buck noted the thicker accent and the slurred delivery. His friend was exhausted and would be out cold pretty soon.

"Well, I hope you know that you can always talk to me. I'd hate to think you needed to talk last night and didn't feel comfortable tellin' me whatever was upsetting you. I hope you know you're an important part of my life now." The handsome ladies' man leaned in closer and said, "I got a special spot for ya, hoss, right here," he said as he tapped on his chest, over his heart. "I'd never hurt ya, and if ya asked, I'd keep your confidence."

Ezra blinked at the open and honest admission from his friend, and was flabbergasted that Buck had read him as well as he had. It was true, he had been disturbed about something, something personal and he really didn't know who he would have ever talked to about it, before now. Now, after hearing Buck speak and knowing with all his heart that the kind man was speaking true to his heart, he would tell Buck.

"Ezra?" Buck asked. The even breathing of a man asleep was the only response Buck Wilmington got from his injured friend. "Well," he added as he placed his hand on Ezra's uninjured arm and squeezed tightly, "we'll try that again tomorrow."

The End.


End file.
